I Can Handle It
by akai-shinigami
Summary: What happens when Crona escapes and is discovered and taken in by our very own red reaper? Crona and GrellxWilliam.
1. A Fresh Start

**Authors notes: Hi guys, this is really my first ever fanfiction. I found inspiration from both Kuroshitsuji and Soul Eater and thought of what I figured could be a brilliant story. **

**I am aware that Crona is not identified as male or female, but in the anime they use male pronouns, therefore I will use male pronouns. I am not stating which gender Crona happens to be, though. Sopleasenobutthurt, thanks! (I also am unaware of his actual age; I did some research, though. It is said that Crona is about 14/15, so I will be using that age range.)**

**Of course, I don't own Kuroshitsuji or Soul Eater or any of the characters within the story. Also, I thought of this idea all on my own, I found no stories or anything about it. **

**Thanks so much for reading, I really appreciate it! ^_^ and I hope you guys enjoy!**

His birth hadn't particularly been a glamorous one.

Before his birth, his parents were happy. They had a child on the way. This was exactly how they had planned out their lives.

But then that day had arrived. She had gone into labor, and it was time for the baby to come. Unfortunately enough, it was too much for her to handle. Dead as soon as our protagonist was born. Of course, the husband was upset. He lost his true love and was left with their cherub. Heartbroken and his soul crushed, he decided things would work themselves out. He and his new child would be blissful together. But with every growing day, that baby looked more and more like his deceased wife. As hair sprouted on the babe's head, its lilac shade differentiating with his pale skin and those striking grey eyes. Even their facial features bore similarities.

One day it had grown to be too much for our dear father. Without any hesitation, he dropped our protagonist off at the nearest foster home. With little to no information on the child, the unstable foster home took him in.

Crona was the name they were given. No last name or anything. No age, gender or any other specifics. He was a vulnerable kid. Small and slender, his shoulders always seeming to be slumped. His facial features always turned downwards to give him a permanent melancholy look. This made him a target for the elder kids.

At the age of eight, he was molested for the first time. And it continued, many times. And by both genders. Because of this, our dear Crona became very gender-confused. Not identifying as female or male, he wore androgynous clothing and kept his hair medium length and choppy. His first haircut was sloppy done with a pair of kitchen scissors. Teasing, bullying, even being abused were now daily things for him. His best solution was to hole himself up in his room, and try to make himself as small as possible. His hunched over posture now became an almost permanent stance.

Due to his cheerlessness, no one ever seemed to dwell too long on the idea of adopting him. People came and went. He stopped getting his hopes up by this point. From the age of three to eleven, he lived in the run-down foster home. It was nowhere close to a "home" to our dear Crona, but it was the only place he knew. Rarely did he ever see the outside world.

But then one day, a rather peculiar looking woman came to the foster home. She wasn't pleased by anyone, until she set eyes on Crona. Instantly, she knew he was who she wanted. Fascinated by her unusual appearance, Crona was instantly taken by this stranger. Happily obliging with following her to his new home, he almost walked with confidence. Hopeful of a new beginning, a new life, a new start. But instantly, he had regretted leaving the foster home.

Experiment upon experiment, Crona's body had become a test subject for this lady, Medusa. She claimed it was all out of love, but these strange sensations and painful jabs at his skin seemed far from "love." He soon became terrified of needles, and every time he was strapped onto her test table, he broke out into screaming fits. Forced into insanity and hysteria. Blood turned black, an instant weapon from any injury. This had been tested _many_ times. Medusa would cut his skin, and the spiky and dangerous blood would pour from him. He had screamed. She had laughed.

Years of this torture. Eleven to fourteen. Her final experiment had happened days ago. A weapon—injected into his body—would soon grow strong and feed off of Crona. One day it would find its way out of his body. How long would that take? He had asked. _Who knows? _Had been her response.

Crona lay in his small bed, looking out the window that was across the room. It had been adorned with bars. Medusa was too clever to even dare to let him escape. It was dark outside, and it was freezing. It couldn't be over ten degrees as snow lightly fell from the sky. It was late November. And on this winter night, Crona had every intention of making his long awaited escape. He was dressed in his day clothes—his usual garb of the white button up that covered his neck, the cuffs far too large for his thin wrists. A thin black dress that fell to his mid-calves, and white socks with black shoes. Not exactly fashionable, but it was good enough for him.

Standing, he walked over to look out the window, his eyes drooping in a sad way. The snow was a perfect white blanket, no footsteps to ruin its perfect appearance. The thin boy let out a sigh, his breath fogging up on the window. He had no belongings, nothing to bring along. He just _needed _to get out.

Medusa was out, running some type of errand, so he took his chances. Leaving his room, the door wide open, he sprinted down the hall, to the front door, where he glanced around once more. "Goodbye," He whispered before taking the bold step out the front door.

The crisp white snow crunched under his feet as he surveyed the skies and surroundings. No sign of her. He ran. And he ran for a long time. Down roads, alleys, eventually finding his way into the city. By this point he was freezing. He stood in one spot, arms wrapped around himself in a hug. His thin frame shook from the cold. There were footsteps behind him and his breathing hitched as he squeezed his eyes shut. And then nothing. It was merely a stranger. He was fine. He was free. Medusa was nowhere near.

A small laugh shook his body as he took off once more, finding himself at the end of an alleyway. He'd been running a long time. His knees bent and his palms on his knees, he breathed in deeply before sitting. The snow here wasn't as white; it was more of a tan color, but Crona didn't mind. His knees brought up to his chest in an attempt to stay warm, he rested his cheek on his knees as he closed his eyes.

Cheeks and nose now a pinkish color for the cold, Crona was still shivering. He heard footsteps again, and this time when he looked up, this person was staring right at him, a book in his hand. The man was leaning against a weapon as he stared at Crona.

All he could make out from the other at the end of the alley was red.


	2. Soul Restoration

**Author's notes: I apologize for no break between my notes and the writing last chapter. It completely escaped my mind, and by the time I submitted it, it was too late. This time around, though, I will have that break!**

**Once again, I do not own Kuroshitsuji or Soul Eater, or any of the characters within them. This idea was all of my own making, lalala. You guys know the deal.**

**Thanks for reading, once again. I hope you enjoy this one as much as the first!**

Chapter Two: Soul Restoration

Perfectly manicured nails tapped impatiently along an oak desk. A stack of papers that was almost as tall as his knees were on his desk, one of them underneath his hand that held a pen with no intention of writing. He let out an exasperated sigh, looking at all the work he had done in the past three hours. He'd filled out his name, _Grell Sutcliff,_ the date, _November 30__th__, _and even written the name of the reaped, _James Donahue. _Why did he need to fill out five papers on this one soul?

William had dropped the papers off this morning, meaning business, and only that. "Grell, these papers are to be completed by the end of the day. I am far too behind in my own work due to your slacking," He had said coldly. He earned a grin from Grell and then a scowl as he looked at the papers.

"But William! I—"

"No buts, Grell. I _need _this done, understand? I have been working overtime for the past two months and for once I'd like to come home on time." He had a point there—Grell hated how late his cold lover came home. There was a price at avoiding his work, and that price was the lack of kisses and other activities from his dearest.

"Fine." He stated with a pout, taking the papers and setting them on his desk. He grabbed a pen and shooed William out.

But now, almost four hours later, he was still glaring at the half filled out form. He had never been one for paperwork; Grell was aggressive. He loved fighting, confrontation, anything of the sort. Reaping was his natural born gift, and although he had many slip-ups, he was one of the best reapers at the Dispatch Society. But his foil, William, was quieter and focused. He enjoyed paperwork and keeping everything in line. Grell was an exception; from their long past, he'd learnt to tolerate the flamboyant reaper. There was no point in avoiding him: Grell only came on stronger. But one day, William seemed to give in completely, and ever since that magnificent day, Will also learned a new thing: how to keep business and romance separate.

Finally giving up, Grell stood abruptly and set his pen down. His red coat hung over the back of his chair as he left his office, heels clicking against tiled flooring. He was going to go reaping, yes, that'd calm him down. Walking into the reaping's lobby, he went to the first open window and leaned against the counter. "Sutcliff," He said, the person on the other side of the glass staring for a second before searching through files. Everyone was aware of how Mr. Grell Sutcliff worked. When faced with paperwork, he ditched it by taking any reaping possible. And that applied to this situation.

"We have two available reapings for tonight, both in London." The boy spoke, handing two books over. Grell grinned, sharp teeth exposed, as he ran a finger over the cinematic records.

Without even muttering a thank you, he picked up the books and walked off. With one of the books tucked under his arm, the other in his hand as he scanned through the history. These books always had fascinated him. He loved learning about his victims before distributing the final blow.

The first soul was to be collected in about an hour, so Grell hurriedly grabbed his coat and slipped it on. His beloved chainsaw was propped in the corner of his office. He cooed at the sight of it and picked it up before taking off. He hadn't waste any time, for if William caught him, he wouldn't be very happy.

—

One soul down, one more to go. The sun was setting in London, and it was getting very cold out. Even his thick coat wasn't keeping him completely warm. In fact, his teeth were chattering as he read through the next record.

"Running through the streets, stopping in an alley," He said, reading the words as they wrote themselves. Walking through the streets, he soon came to the alley where the words had stopped. Looking towards the end, he saw a small boy looking back at him.

"Crona Gorgon," Grell called out loudly, shutting the book and tucking it away in his coat. "I've come for you soul," He said with a smirk, baring his teeth as he walked down towards the boy.

"M-my soul?" Came a meek voice. Grell quirked an eyebrow as he perched his chainsaw over his weapon. Sure, the book had mentioned he was younger, but not as young as the lilac haired boy looked now. His wide eyes drooping, a frightened look on his face. The red head almost felt a pang of guilt.

"Yes, I didn't stutter." He spat, lifting his chainsaw and revving the motor once. Just as he was about to strike Crona, the other's head tucked protectively in his lap, his arms hugging himself, Grell stopped. Something inside of him just couldn't bring himself to hurt this child. After a minute of hesitation, he turned off his scythe and leaned against it once again. The sudden silence caused Crona to look up, his face still genuinely scared. Grell just watched the other, his face showing no emotion, but his mind was racing a mile a minute.

He could only perform this action once during his career. Was he sure the time was now?

Grabbing the book once more and a pen, he flipped to the last page with writing and spoke aloud what he wrote. "Crona Gorgon is saved by soul restoration." He shut the book once done and looked back down at the small boy. He had just saved Crona's life, letting him live longer past his death date.

"You're coming home with me," The red reaper said, extending a hand.

Crona stared at the hand hesitantly. He was shivering nonstop. What did he have to lose? A moment passed before he took the gloved hand and stood.

The chainsaw propped on his opposite shoulder, Grell walked with the boy. William probably wouldn't be too happy, having a new member sleeping in their apartment. But for now, Grell just had to think of how to explain this to Will. And he didn't think motherly instinct would work this time around.


	3. Confinement

**Author's notes: Thanks so much for the reviews! They mean so much to me, I really appreciate them. They definitely encourage me to write more for you guys.**

**As if you didn't know, I don't own Kuroshitsuji nor do I own Soul Eater. This idea is from my imagination and it's completely original. **

**Now, let's get to the story!**

Chapter Three: Confinement

The apartment was completely silent except for the soft humming that came from the bedroom. In this certain room, Grell was rummaging through his closet, looking for something other than red. This mission was nearly impossible, so he decided on a nightgown that he didn't wear as often as others. This one fell just past his knees, therefore hiding his favorite feature of his body: his legs. Long, slender, and pale. He liked showing them off whenever he could outside of work.

Taking the night gown, he set it on his makeup vanity in front of the thin boy who occupied the seat of the vanity. "That's all I could find for you. I'd rummage through William's clothing, but I am quite sure you'll look lovely in red."

Nodding reassuringly with a wide (and very sharp) grin, Crona looked at the silk dress and reached out to run his fingers along it. In the duration of being in this new, but surprisingly inviting, apartment, Crona had been given a warm cup of tea and a blanket to wrap around his slender frame. Grell was convinced the boy had caught hypothermia; he'd been out in the snow in barely any clothes! He was lucky the reaper showed up at the time he did, or hypothermia, or something worse, could have occurred.

The steaming cup of tea sat on the vanity as Grell tucked the blanket tighter against Crona. "Please, drink the tea. It'll warm you up very quickly. The nightgown isn't the warmest, but it is very comfortable to sleep in."

Grell had a motherly instinct to himself; he was very protective, over pretty much everything. He felt this is why he saved Crona. As he was about to swing his scythe down to hit the small boy, it was Crona's face that stopped him. The face held so much history; so much pain and suffering, hurting and abuse. The red reaper instantly wanted to hug the boy and keep him safe. This was why he usually reaped older woman or men; when it came to younger souls, he instantly became too attached.

Crona took the tea cup, sipping from it and looking up at Grell, who gave him a thumbs up. The reaper then left, going to ready the couch for Crona to sleep on. Once he finished off the tea, the lilac haired boy stood, the blanket draped around his shoulders. He walked out of the room, holding the nightgown and looking at Grell.

"Um… Where is t-the restroom?" Crona spoke in a meek voice, looking to the redhead before glancing around. Grell gave the boy instructions and watched him walk off before going back to collecting blankets for the couch.

Once the couch looked like a comfortable bed, Grell stepped back and clapped his hands together happily.

Everything was quiet and peaceful for a few more minutes until the door opened and William walked through, an angry look on his face. "Grell, where the _hell_, did you disappear to today? You got no paperwork done!"

Grell winced. He hated when William raised his voice. He held his hands up defensively. "William, you don't understand! I hate paperwork; you know that I was practically bored to _death._"

"I honestly don't care; you need to quit slacking so much! You know what will happen if you keep disappearing!" He was about to speak again when Crona walked out, his previous outfit clutched to his chest, the blanket still draped over his shoulders. The red silk nightgown fell to his mid-calves and hung loosely on his body. William couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the sight as he looked back to Grell. "Grell and what the _hell _is this?"

"Oh! This is Crona. And doesn't he look just _darling _in red!" He exclaimed walking over to take Crona's other clothing. William's hands were massaging his temples as he let out a sigh.

"Crona? Who is that? Why are you suddenly bringing strangers into our apartment?" He asked, crossing his arms over his chest and tapping his foot, obviously awaiting an answer.

"I will explain, just let him get some rest, okay?" Grell lead Crona over to the couch, giving him a hug before wishing him sweet dreams. The redhead then grabbed William's hand, pulling him into their room and shutting the door. "Today, while skipping my work and going out reaping, I know, bad Grell, I came across Crona. He was my second soul to collect. But I couldn't bring myself to reap him. I just couldn't! So I saved him by soul restoration."

By this point, William already had a headache. He had taken off his glasses and was currently rubbing his eyes. Sitting on the edge of their bed, he placed his glasses back on his face before looking to Grell. "And you assume that this child will live with us?"

"Yes." He spoke certainly, moving to sit in William's lap. "He was alone. I read that he ran away from home due to an abusive relationship with his mom. Will! I had to take him in; I couldn't just leave him out there to die after I saved him!"

William had to admit, he had a point. Although, he wouldn't say it. Looking to the male in his lap, he just sighed and shook his head. "He can't stay for long, and you have to promise to do your work."

"I promise." He said, kissing the dark-haired reaper on the cheek.

The arguing within the bedroom silenced to nothing. Crona lay on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket. He stared at the ceiling for a long time, waiting for sleep to claim him. And once it finally did, inside these stranger's apartment, he still didn't feel completely safe.


	4. Growing Adoration

**Author's note: Hey guys, I am so sorry for such an absence! I have had a really busy schedule and haven't had the time to sit down and actually write. But, now, here is chapter four! Get excited. **

**But for now, enjoy a picture of myself and my best friend in cosplay. I feel it is fitting for this story. Her cosplay isn't complete, she just happened to have a pink wig. For more of my Grell cosplay, just check my deviant art! **

** gallery/#/d5lni4a**

**I plan on drawing a Christmas card of Grell, William, and Crona, so hopefully I can get that posted within the next week with a new chapter! If not, it might be a little late, but I still would like to share it with you guys.**

**Anyway, again, I do no own these two series, yadda yadda. I apologize if this chapter is a little messy; I need to get back into the swing of things.**

**Enjoy!**

Chapter Four: Growing Adoration

"Okay, Crona, I will be home in a bit." Grell said, sitting on the edge of the couch beside Crona. The smaller boy just looked up at him with wide eyes. He was going to be left alone? How would he deal with that? Grell was in the same outfit he was in the first time Crona saw him. Instinctively, he flung his arms around the red-clad reaper and clung to him.

Grell blinked before smiling and ruffling the lilac hair on the other's head. "No need to worry, just rest and it will seem like no time before I am home." He said and nodded, politely removing the other's arms before standing. "If any strangers come by, just leave the door shut." He reminded before winking and waving to Crona, taking a few swift steps to the door before exiting the apartment.

And now, all alone, Crona sat on the stranger's couch. He was in that silky red night gown, and his choppy hair was a ruffled mess. Letting out a soft sigh, he stood and went to searching for his clothes. Eventually ending up in the one bedroom, he found them, washed and hanging up to dry. They were still a tiny bit damp, but he took them down anyway and got changed.

The apartment was small, but cozy in a good way. Crona found it quite inviting. He'd never been in someone else's home besides his own, so he decided to explore a bit. It mainly consisted of the necessities; a kitchen, bathroom, a few closets, a bedroom, and a living room. Hints of red everywhere, but mainly in the bedroom. He was even nosy enough to snoop through a few closets. After an hour of exploring, he was starting to get quite bored and lonely. Again, his thoughts started to wander and he got to thinking about Medusa. Crona was starting to scare himself as he thought of what she'd do when she finally found him.

Suddenly, sitting silence was scary and he needed to be somewhere, around people, anyone. Going back to one of the closets, he grabbed a coat and slipped it on before leaving the apartment. He wandered down the halls until he stepped outside into the cold, the air hitting his face and instantly turning his nose red. The Shinigami Dispatch Society was a big building, and he knew exactly where it was. Within five minutes, he walked into the front doors, his arms hugging himself as he looked around the lobby area. He had no idea where Grell worked.

He had been at work for about an hour, finally forcing himself to work on the papers that were stacked high on his desk. They had gotten into a bit of a fight this morning, so he decided that it would be smart to get some of the reports done. Grell had gotten three out of the way when a secretary from the lobby came to his office.

"Grell, there is someone downstairs waiting for you." She said, walking off. Grell got up and followed, taking the stairs to the first floor. He was confused, who would be visiting him? As he turned the corner, looking for his visitor, he spotted and thin boy, wrapped up in a black coat sitting in the chairs at the side of the room. The lilac hair caught his attention. A smile graced his lips as he walked over, sitting beside the frail boy.

"I see you found me at work!" He said and looked over. Crona nodded and glanced over at Grell before his eyes fell back to his lap.

"I was lonely." Crona mumbled as he pulled the coat closer along his body. Grell nodded as he took Crona's hand, leading the other to stand as they walked off.

"You can help me finish up my report and then we can head home, how does that sound?" Crona nodded at the comment as they walked down the hall to Grell's office. William luckily wasn't in his. Grell let out a breath of relief.

But, as the two walked into Grell's office, there stood William, his arms crossed as he stared at Grell with an emotionless face. William raised an eyebrow. "You brought him to work?"

"No! He was lonely at home so he came to see me. Calm down, I've finished three reports today!" He pointed to his desk, almost cringing at the very tall pile of unfinished work. He could tell his love was fed up with this, but Grell was trying! Today, he had done more work than he had done in months. But the agitation growing on William's face was making Grell feel guilty. "Look, William, I—"

"Just go home, Grell. And take him with you. I will do the work, as usual." He sneered, grabbing a stack of papers before leaving.

With a big pout on his face, Grell sighed and walked over, putting on his coat and grabbing the rest of the papers. "Let's go." He said, and Crona nodded, following. He picked up any papers that fell from Grell's arms as they walked down the hallway.

William walked down the street, his hands in his pockets, a scarf Grell had knitted him last year wrapped around his neck. He was still upset from earlier, but he could never stay mad at that flamboyant reaper for long. He had finished a few reports, and decided he wouldn't stay home for overtime.

Arriving at home, he expected the everyday routine; coming home to Grell cooking dinner, an apron tied around his thin waist, his long, smooth hair tied up and out of his face. But as he walked into their apartment, he found it dark, with one light coming from their room. He took off the scarf and coat, setting them on the back off the couch as he wandered into the room.

"Grell?" He called, spotting a sleeping Crona laying on their bed. As much as the presence of this child angered him, he could help but admire the innocence and vulnerability on Crona's face. Plus, he was dressed in only one of William's dress shirts (obviously the work of Grell), that fell to the boy's knees. He quirked an eyebrow, but couldn't help but smile. Grell was nowhere to be found, so he simply pulled the sheets over Crona before exiting their room.

William turned on a light in the living room before he went into the kitchen to start on a simple dinner for three. He tossed a few ingredients on the island that also served as their table. Ten minutes passed, and a frantic Grell walked through the door. He looked straight to William and walked over.

"I finished the reports and hurried to turn them in!" He said, leaning against the opposite of the island as he faced William. His coat was hanging from his elbows and he walked over to cling to William's arm. "I'm trying, I really am, please forgive me."

Despite how irritating the other could be at times, William couldn't help but crack a smile. "It's okay, Grell, I'm not mad."

William let Grell go get changed as they worked on dinner together. They ended up eating alone, but saved some for Crona and set it aside, just in case the boy woke up and was hungry. The time seemed to slip by, and eventually the two grew tired. Changed in pajamas, Grell climbed into bed, and William carried Crona back out to the couch, tucking a blanket over the boy.

It wasn't much longer before Grell was asleep as well, but William was feeling quite restless. They had a small library of books, and that was what he was up to, kneeling as he ran his finger over the spines of countless books. One caught his eye and he pulled it out. Pushing his glasses up his nose, he recognized the book as a cinematic record.

And it just happened to be Crona's.

William raised an eyebrow and flipped to the first page, sitting and leaning against the bookcase. He wasn't sure what to expect of Crona's past, but if it matched Grell's description, he was bracing himself for a lot.


End file.
